


A Demon on My Shoulder...

by Sanshal



Series: Demon! Dean [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Gen, deaging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knew he was taking a huge risk- agreeing to this spell meant he would either risk losing everything or he would- for once- be able to save Dean. And given Dean was sporting black eyes-literally- these days; there was a good chance things wouldn’t go according to plan.</p><p>But then again, Sam wasn’t a Winchester for nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Demon on My Shoulder...

**Author's Note:**

> S-10 speculation. I’m NOT putting this in warnings because obviously the show is not proceeding like my fic.  
> \---------  
> Warning: Demon!Dean ( But don’t worry; he’ll have (at least a few) redeeming characteristics and I don’t think I could write him as evil evil you know?  
> \---------

**_Title: A Demon on my Shoulder... (Fic formerly known as: "Can a dead heart feel?")_ **  
**Earlier Parts:[1](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/24428.html)\- [2](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/24704.html)\- [3](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/24986.html)\- [4](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/25618.html)\- [5](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/26586.html)**

****

_\----_

 

The boy fell silent as Dean gingerly pulled the kid into him, but he could still feel the silent tremors coursing through the tiny body. It was only once he was done that Dean turned around to glare at the intruder- a feeling of pride welling in him towards the kid when he realized Crowley’s face was twisted in a grimace of pain. _It was good to know that only he was exempt from the wards- not that they would have stopped him; Dean would have kept Sammy safe irrespective._

“Crowley,” He acknowledged.

The King of Hell coughed before meeting his gaze with a glare, “I had been wondering what was keeping our darling knight away. .. Stupid of me, huh? I should have guessed.”

Dean shrugged, unable to keep from shifting slightly to shield Sammy’s tiny frame with his bulk even knowing that the action was useless. He could feel the child’s shuddering breaths behind him, but refused to look away from the threat.

The demon took a step forward and the blade materialized in Dean’s hands.

“Really?” Crowley exclaimed, more amusement than fear layering his tone. “Have you forgotten to whom you owe your fealty, Squirrel?”

“I owe my loyalty to Sammy first, Crowley,” He growled in answer, “You threaten him and see how much good my supposed _fealty_ to you does,”

“Not threatening the Moose,” Crowley returned, holding his hands up as though to show that he had no weapons. Dean was not fooled.

“You really are a suspicious bastard, aren’t you?” The demon king muttered companionably, moving forward despite Dean’s threat till he could peer at the child clinging to his knight’s back.

“My my my...” He whistled, “Hard to imagine Moose was ever so tiny,”

Dean growled low in his throat, tightening his hold around the trembling child who he’d managed to clumsily wrap in a towel while shielding him from Crowley. Knowing the demon was not afraid of him and wouldn’t leave till his curiosity was satisfied, he took the opportunity to turn and right the fluffy terry so that as much of his brother as possible was covered.

The boy - _who’d thankfully stopped crying_ \- curled into him with a soft whimper still staring worriedly at Crowley.

“Sshhh, you’re safe, Sammy.” Dean hushed and picked him up; he had to let go of the blade for it, but having Sammy safe in his arms seemed to be more important than wielding a hunk of bone.

_Huh; it had been awhile since he’d managed to disregard the Blade’s siren call so completely..._

“So... what happened?” Crowley’s voice brought Dean back from his musing and he instinctively cupped a hand behind the boy’s head to shield him from the demon’s view.

“Still working on that,” He confessed grudgingly.

“Why don’t I help you with that, eh?” Crowley offered, reaching out for the child before Dean’s low growl and the First blade pressed against his jugular had him freezing.

“Try to touch him again and I won’t stop before I saw right through,”

The demon king nodded, grimacing once the older Winchester brother released his neck and working his jaw to check that everything was still functioning. Dean glared at Crowley, thanking the powers-that-be that for whatever reason Sam didn’t appear to be frightened of his big brother’s murderous fury.

“Think I should take my leave now, my lovelies. See you soon, Dean. Moose.” And with a nod, the demon was gone.

\---

Dean turned to glance back at his baby brother and found the kid scrunching his nose in confusion. _It was hard not to find the expression incredibly cute._ “What?”

“He stinks!” Sam grumbled, rubbing over his little button nose as though he could wipe the scent of sulphur off. Dean hid his smile as he realised that even this pint sized version of his brother was observant enough to be able to identify the smell of sulphur even if he didn’t recognize it.

“Do I stink as well?” He asked, more out of curiosity than any actual desire to know the answer.

Sammy shook his head immediately, “You smell like home.”

_And no siree- those weren’t tears... just soap suds that had gotten into his eyes._

Dean nodded as helped the boy into one of his own tees- having not gotten around to buying proper clothes for the kid apart from the one he already came in. _Huh._

Now that he thought of it, he recognized those jeans and that flannel. .. Apparently whatever had shrunk Sam had also worked on his clothes.

 ---

Dean wished someone had warned him beforehand not to feed a kid candy for breakfast because demon or not, the boy’s non-stop chatter was giving him the beginnings of a migraine... _Maybe this was just some kind of special punishment reserved for demons topside._

He desperately wants to slap a hand over the child’s mouth to keep him silent for a single minute’s respite but his hands remain gentle as pulls the boy in close; not wanting to risk finding out just how strong he’s become since his death.

He had initially taken the child to a playground after “providing” him with clothes liberated from a nearby super-store; but had picked up on two demons tailing them- obviously they had been tasked with just keeping an eye on Dean and Sam because they didn’t try to approach the child _._ Nevertheless, their proximity to Sammy had Dean jittery and when one of the demons ended up with the ball Sammy had been playing with- swallowing nervously as he glanced at Dean before offering the toy back to the de-aged hunter; Dean decided that enough was enough and transported them back to the bunker.

\---

He had not realized how non-‘child friendly’ the bunker was till Sam had run full tilt and avoided careening down the stairs only thanks to Dean’s demonic powers- not that it had fazed the little pint hunter who continued to ‘race’ through the long corridors of bunker. Dean quickly realized that he needed to keep an eye on the younger Winchester to ensure he did not end up injuring himself.

By the time the little boy was exhausted enough to collapse willingly in his big brother’s waiting arms, Dean had begun to question how he’d ever kept up with the kid during his original childhood. Irrespective, he was glad when Sam finally crawled up into his lap and promptly fell asleep. Tucking the boy in, Dean sat for a moment next to him, slowly stroking the long brown strands and contemplating the severe breach of trust he was about to commit.

Sighing in resignation he closed his eyes as he let his ‘essence’ diffuse enough to slip into Sam.

 ---

He had been expecting his brother to put up a fight: for someone who’d wrestled Lucifer himself, Dean would’ve been easy picking; but to his surprise Sam seemed to recognize him.

Dean blinked, realizing he was still in Sam’s head and that Sam was _still_ Sammy. The boy was playing with army-men toys that Dean remembered from their own childhood in what appeared to be the Impala’s backseat. When Dean materialized next to him, the child simply snuggled closer and passed off a handful of the army-men to him before continuing with his game.

He gave back the toys and peered out of the windows into the fog surrounding them; there seemed to be shapes out there, vague and blurry through the thick mist. He reached out to push the door open and Sammy was suddenly focussed on him.

“No!”

Dean raised his eyebrow at the _loud_ protest, “Just going to check out the outside, kiddo.”

“No, We’re s’posed to stay ‘ere!”

Before Dean could ask why, he felt a presence near them out in the real world and was waking up with the First Blade already in his hand and pressed up against someone’s throat.

\----  
tbc


End file.
